Hunting Time
by JTHMManson4
Summary: Post season 8, pre-season 9. While Crowley is dealing with newfound emotions, he strikes up an idea for the two Winchesters. And…. they don't like it in the least.
1. Prologue

_Summary: Post season 8, pre-season 9. While Crowley is dealing with newfound emotions, he strikes up an idea for the two Winchesters. And…. they don't like it in the least._

 _Rating: PG-13 (T)_

 _Genre: Sci-fi, horror_

 _Ships: None as of yet (shocking, I know)_

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 ** _Prologue:_**

It had been only a couple of weeks—-

Locked up in the bunker like this. Locked up in this room.

But he didn't know _that_.

In fact, he didn't know much about this place at all, besides his own restraints, the tools off to the side on the table on his right, and the Devil's Trap sitting right beneath himself.

 _His_ restraints.

Something that he could have had avoided if he weren't so— What was the word, **_arrogant?_**

Yes, as hard it was to admit.

No, he didn't expect their hidden attack.

Not at all.

Then again, he should have— he had survived by being careful through all these years with dealing with the two notorious hunter brothers. They had almost taken _EVERYTHING_ from him, only in a matter of a few hours. He felt the ultimate loss.

He wanted _revenge_ —-

But ah, could he even proceed with doing it at this point?

In some sort of way, he had grown on the Winchesters even by a bit over the years– even going as far to have exchanged phone numbers with Dean, occasionally calling him up for business related matters.

But ah, the Winchesters' arrogance towards him; their disdain and utter contempt towards him– the things they had messed up for him. ** _Oh,_** how he wanted to _rip them apart_ —-

Ah, perhaps go a little easy on them though.

… Maybe a quick kill would be for the best. For both of them. Equally.

 _…..Softness?_ Really? It was a surprise.

 _Goddamn it, get a grip on yourself…._ A growl exited from his mouth, as the demon silently told himself within the dark confines of his tortured mind. He shifted slightly in his chair, even if it was a bit hard to do so.

He had been half-cured, or rather, _nearly_ cured, afterall. He was experiencing emotions– _human_ emotions— just as he had all those years ago when he was only a mere human.

At first– he had resisted the injections done by Sam in the church, but then he soon grew to want them. The King of Hell wanted to feel _all_ he could possibly to explain what was going on inside his mind, to make connecting the dots easier. To gain some sort of power, again.

The guilt— that wasn't desirable one tiny bit; that could be done away entirely. It was eating, _gnawing,_ _ **chewing**_ at him ever since a couple of weeks ago.

It was overwhelming— He had done so much during his rise up through the demonic ranks. So, so much. Betrayal, killing, oh god— he even TORTURED his own kind! _TORTURE!_ He made his own kind **_suffer_** at his own damned hands.

The King of Hell lifted his hands, slightly examining them. Thoroughly. They shook slightly— He had so much blood on them. His son's, multiple humans', demons', angels'… Hell, he even hurt the Winchesters! They worked so hard day to day, fighting against numerous creatures and—

He immediately scowled at that thought.

They _weren't_ truly special, or as he so eloquently put, _'big bloody heroes'_ out of heavy disdain. _…. I had hurt them so much, hadn't I?_

 _No, don't think that._

 _I was only defending myself— wasn't I?_ Self doubt, that was new too. Wonderful.

 _I slaughtered innoc—_

Another scowl. It was necessary though to prove a point to the brothers. But… How many times had he tried to justify his kills?

The door slammed open loudly, announcing someone's presence, drastically interrupting the demon's thoughts. Ugh, he couldn't be more thankful for that.

The new occupant stepped forward and spoke.

''Crowley.''

 _ **A/N: Hehehe. This was a weird idea that had popped into my mind ages ago. And the writing's a bit dated, as I had started on this concept forever ago... So what awaits Crowley and the Winchesters? More details will be revealed next chapter! :P Please Read and review!**_


	2. Chapter 1

_Summary: Post season 8, pre-season 9. While Crowley is dealing with newfound emotions, he strikes up an idea for the two Winchesters. And…. they don't like it in the least._

 _Rating: PG-13 (T)_

 _Genre: Sci-fi, horror_

 _Ships: None as of yet (shocking, I know)_

 _ **Yay! On with the story. There's a lot more things going on here in this one, guys. Hopefully i caught the characterizations of Sam and Dean alright. Tried to keep them in character.**_

 ** _And thank yous to you guys-_** ** _kikibessix1409 and lemonofweirdness! Hugs all around. C: *hugs you*_**

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Crowley flashed his vision over towards the newcomer. "Moose.'' Sam.

''Keep quiet, alright?'' Sam immediately said, knowing the demon would bug him about going on a hunt with him and his brother. Hunt. With. Them. He and Dean were getting extremely annoyed at the notion, the question.

''I wasn't going to say anything, love.'' The demon said in his best casual voice.

"I doubt that.'' Sam approached somewhat getting out a slip of paper, and also crossing his arms. '' _Now,_ are you willing to talk about…?''

''Hunting?'' He'd have to be stubborn about this.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. ''Dude! Shut up about it. It's not going to _happen._ ''

Crowley tilted his head off to the side and also upwards. ''I'm not. You two use it as a way to 'save' people, don't you?''

' _'_ _And?''_ Bitchface.

''Isn't that a place to start receiving forgiveness?'' There was actually a sincere expression upon the demon's face, full of possible hope.

Sam sighed, rubbing the back of his head. ''Uh, I guess? … Let me talk to Dean.'' They had to move forward from this at some point… He grumbled a couple of curses and blatantly ignored Crowley's smirk.

The brown haired male immediately left, while running a hand through his hair. Walking a bit tiredly, he stopped and leaned against the main room's long table and watched Dean a bit as the older brother was situated at a laptop. Sam was about to start speaking, but his brother quickly spoke with a slightly concerned expression.

"You alright?'' His fingers halted above the keyboard.

Sam pulled a face looking off to the left. ''I guess a bit better..? Try not to worry dude.''

''Don't give that crap, Sam! I told you a _week ago_ to stop that shit!''

"Look, Dean… My health…" An unpleasant prospect popped into his head about it. ''I've been thinking of taking Crowley's offer. He's not going to stop.''

Dean threw his arms and hands up in frustration. ''Dude. Dragging the _King of Hell_ with us _hunting?_ ''

Sam shrugged. ''He said it'd make him talk more, information for us. At least a couple of days ago. Plus, you need someone who can help you even if that's to be—'' He trailed off of course referring to his iffy health. Having a supernatural being beside his older brother would be helpful, even if it was a pile of shit like Crowley. Good thing they had restraints for him.

''Shut up, you're going to be just fine.'' Dan said hastily.

Silence fell onto the scene. Neither wanted to fully face their problems right now— especially Dean. None of them were particularly appealing; Crowley, Sam's health, and Cas's newfound humanity. Oh, on top of all that, angels had fallen all over the Earth.

But they knew they had to face them.

Dean rubbed a hand down his face. ''Fine… But he keeps the handcuffs on. One of them— the other stays up his sleeve.''

''…This is going to be ridiculous..'' Sam muttered.

''NO! Of course not, it's going to be perfectly **FINE!** '' Dean groaned. ''I'll go get him.''

Sam nodded, checking the notes Dean had earlier on their most recent case, while Dean brushed past him annoyed.

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The demon lifted his head, upon hearing the heavy metal door open up and slam shut. ''Ah, someone comes to visit, and it ends up being Squirrel! So. H—''

''Shut up.''

''Friendly, aren't we?'' Crowley quipped, while Dean stepped forward, revealing a key. ''Don't you dare try _anything._ ''

Crowley looked at him innocently. He was **itching** to get out of here. Very, very anxious.

''I don't trust that face.'' The hunter said before now striding over to the demon. He lifted his hand to start unlock the restraints, beginning with the neck one. But Crowley swiftly tried to grab the key, but Dean was quick enough to act as well.

''OW!''

Crowley cried out in pain. The King grunted looking down at his forearm. There— Ruby's Knife sticking right in it. It was a miracle that the hunter hadn't stabbed him in the chest— then it would have been _all_ over. The demon stared up incredulously. How had he survived this long, **anyways?** ''Was that necessary!? I don't break my deals!''

Dean 'accidentally' twisted the blade a bit as he yanked it out roughly, which earned an exaggerated yelp from the other occupant with the room. Crowley threw a glare. His vision particularly lingered on the demon killing knife.

''Are you done, Crowley?''

Crowley sighed. Did he _look_ suicidal? ''What do you think, mate?''

''Answer the question.''

''Yes.'' Crowley rolled his eyes.

''Good.'' Dean remarked satisfied, but letting a few silent minutes pass by before he went and started to undo the King's restraints. He finished up and before Crowley knew, they were walking down the hallway, while Crowley adjusted and smoothed down his clothes once more.

Of course, blatantly ignoring the knife pointed towards his direction.

His appeared looked somewhat decent now— minus the injuries and blood across the face. Silence was in between the two, as Dean suddenly pulled the demon into the bunker's bathroom.

It literally was very much a five-star bathroom. Color the demon slightly impressed.

''Wait here, don't move.'' Dean ordered the demon, before going into the area where the toilet would be located.

''Why are we in here?'' Crowley inquired, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. ''Are you going to bend me over?'' Despite dealing with his refound humanity, he still found the opportunity to be a smart-ass.

'' ** _DUDE. SHUT UP._** ''

The ruler had to smirk, but it faded quickly. He soon got lost in his thoughts. The Winchester, to be fair, hated— repeat— **_HATED_** him— yet every opportunity they still hadn't decided to _kill him._ Which was odd to say the least. Especially his most recent stunt, which he was sure they would end his life sometime during these last couple of weeks… A _ridiculous_ notion would that they _wanted_ him around.

Following the same thought, did he end up growing on the Winchesters? He scoffed, knowing it might have been true— hell if he'd admit it— especially now that he had humanity within him.

''CROWLEY!''

Crowley directed his green eyes back to the other male, previously staring at the floor.

Dean moved forward and pointed at him. ''Stop spacing out. And further more—'' He somewhat roughly pulled the demon over with him to a sink and mirror.

Haunted eyes.

The demon had to flicker his vision away from the glass surface. He was about to comment. But the hunter suddenly started to scrub at Crowley's face which was still aching a bit. ''Your mojo ain't back up to speed?''

Crowley yanked away from him. ''Obviously, Squirrel.'' He grabbed the rag , now starting to clean his own face. Brownish-red color stained it— they really did a number on him, didn't they? He pushed that thought into the back of his mind. It would lead to guilty thoughts.

''There.'' The demon stated throwing the cloth into the sink. Dean looked him once over.

''Better.'' He remarked, before pulling the demon into the main room where Sam was situated. His vision flickered up, silently acknowledging the two who nodded. Dean went and put his hands on back of one of the chairs, before pulling it out and motioning for Crowley to sit down. ''Dude, come on.'' He commented, when a good couple of minutes went by.

Crowley shrugged. ''Maybe I'd like to just stand.'' When he received a glare, he elaborated, ''Thought you two would put two and two together— I tend to overestimate you boys, don't I!? If you haven't _noticed,_ I've been sitting for what? Three weeks straight? Give or take?''

Sam nodded in affirmation.

Dean rolled his eyes. ''Whatever. _Fine,_ I'll be back, I need a beer." With that, left, leaving the two alone.

Sam sighed, now briefly looking at the demon, before focusing back onto his laptop screen. ''Okay, so…'' He scooted the laptop a bit so the other could see what was on the screen— an article from an Idaho newspaper.

''There were five 'deaths' in the last month. They all seemed to just 'disappear'… And then there's this symbol.'' He minimized the window, now bringing up another, causing Crowley's eyebrows to shoot up at the appearance of the symbol. Sam caught the look. ''Do you recognize it?''

''Actually, I do, love. It's a time traveling symbol. Seems like an ancient one. This might be a tricky case, Moose.''

''I don't know, we'll see.''

The hunter clicked a bit more around on his laptop, while the room fell into silence as Dean entered finally, taking a swig of his beer.

''So, anything new?'' The older hunter asked, while sitting down next to Sam, who was about to answer, but—

''A time travel sort of thing. The symbol is ancient in any case. Magick, no doubt. Might be cause of witches.'' Crowley shrugged, figuring it might be from that group of witches he had to deal with a few months back.

Both brothers lifted their eyebrows. ''Witches? Are you friggin' serious? Witches with THAT kind of mojo? …Are you withholding any information?''

''Can't trust a girl for once, can you?''

''Answer the damn question, bastard!''

''Cursing now—''

Dean growled. ''Sh—''

Sam stepped in between each of them. ''GUYS. Both of you just… calm _down._ _ **Now.**_ We need to focus, alright?''

''Thanks, Moose.''

Sam glared angrily at the demon. It was his turn, finally. ''Don't say anything, or I swear to God…''

Before he could even continue, the demon interrupted. ''Or what? You'll stab me?''

''Don't tempt me.''

Crowley grimaced. ''Dean already did.'' _I do deserve it, anyways._

Sam gave a look over towards his brother who shrugged, then his eyes shot back to Crowley's. ''Don't be surprised if you get another injury.''

Crowley lifted both eyebrows, then averted his gaze.

''Anyways. Anymore information you might want to tell us?'' Sam inquired, knitting his brows together.

''I might have run into a group of witches like this a few months ago. However, it could be _completely_ different circumstances. There was this notorious demon that was leading them to do his bidding. To cause havoc and chaos against me.''

''… Do you think it's the same guy?''

The demon gave some thought. ''I doubt it, mate. I've had him locked up for torture in a very secure part of Hell.'' _He couldn't have gotten out._

Sam hmh'ed.

''And I doubt Abbadon's going to do anything about him. I'm _not_ around to see it.'' Seeing as the Knight was making a fine archenemy for the King.

Sam scooted his laptop to let the demon see the multitude of articles, which the demon started to look through, moving slightly to be in front of the computer. If it had been that particular demon, it was damned lucky that he had the Winchesters around for the time being. After a few minutes, the King declared, ''Nah. Not him. Not the same pattern.'' _Though the traitor would definitely change up his game. Hmm… No need to tell them for the time being…_

Sam nodded. ''Alright, you sure?'' He pulled a face.

''Yes.''

 _ **A/N: The plot thickens~ Remember to read and review! :)**_


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